


Mind Over Matter

by PurellGoddess



Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Lots of plot, M/M, Mind Control, Porn With Plot, dubiously consensual everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:35:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5563756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PurellGoddess/pseuds/PurellGoddess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On a trip aboard the Millennium Falcon with Han, Luke discovers a new use for his Jedi Mind powers.</p>
<p>Set sometime after A New Hope and before Return of the Jedi.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mind Over Matter

**Author's Note:**

> Based off a fic from an orphaned account. The entire premise (and one sentence) is based off of it, but I elaborated a bit.
> 
> I really didn't want to write a fic on Star Wars at first because it was essentially the series of my childhood, but I guess I'm all grown up now. Also there aren't enough works for Han?Luke, so it became a personal mission of mine to add to the selection.
> 
> aka turns out I really can't write smut, especially when its Luke freakin Skywalker aka smol child so this was certainly a wild ride to say the least.

The light that slanted through the windows of the Millennium Falcon created a ghostly shadow of a smile on Luke’s face. Luke wasn’t remotely in the mood to smile. The one time he needed to be somewhere he wanted to be, the hyperdrive on the Falcon gave out. It seemed like the ship only worked when in life-threatening situations. Luke thought about whose life he had to threaten to get the damn ship moving again, then he shook the thought from his mind. That was Vader talking.

“How’re things going down there?” Luke shouted off into the depths of the ship.

“Not well” Han’s voice echoed from somewhere below where Luke sat in the cockpit. A loud growl from Chewbacca and a terrible creak from the Flacon agreed with Han’s observation. 

Luke responded with a exasperated sigh that could be heard from the innermost engine, where Han was squatting over a smoking jumble of wires and melted metal. 

“What a teenager,” Han grumbled to Chewbacca, who was on the other side of the engine, holding together what used to be the hyperdrive before it collapsed into itself. 

“Hey, I heard that!” Luke’s incredulous voice rose in pitch from above, like some adolescent deity.

“Damn Jedi ears,” Han grumbled louder. “You would think they would listen, for all the eavesdropping they do!” Luke responded by willing one of the parts Chewbacca was holding to fly over and smack Han on the head. 

“Hey!” Han shouted. Chewie laughed. Then the engine caught on fire again. 

“Chewie, get off your furry ass and help me!” Han shouted through the smoke. Together, they eventually beat out the flames, but their efforts only left the auxiliary engine more damaged than it was before.

“Thanks, Luke,” Han muttered under his breath, knowing well that the kid had nothing to do with the complete failure of the hyperdrive, but it sure felt good to blame someone.

“I heard that, too!” 

Han made an obscene gesture to wherever Luke was in the ship, with a crooked smile on his face. He fiddled with the fluid nozzle some more, wary of the sparks that continued to pop occasionally from the aux engine. “Just hold together a little while longer, baby,” he mumbled to his ship as he shoved the nozzle into place. The sparks stopped, but the ship groaned around the pressure the nozzle added to the engine. Han looked warily at the heart of the ship, but according to his wishes, she held together.

“So why do you want to go to Tatooine so badly? Got some girlfriend you want to impress with your new Jedi skills?” Han crawled through the cluttered space to where Chewbacca held the hyperdrive, in pieces.

From above, Luke bit his fingernails. Nasty habit, especially for a trained Jedi, but he was anxious. Terribly anxious. “No, nothing like that.” He made his way over to the porthole where Han had climbed to the heart of the Flacon. “How long are you going to be playing around with your ship’s parts?”

“Geez kid, you make it seem like I’m violating her.” Han stuck his head under the porthole to show Luke his annoyance.

Luke smirked. “Well you did break her heart.”

Han looked to his hands, where the remains of the hyperdrive sat, broken. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Yeah, it seems like I finally did.” Then quick as lighting he ruefully threw a large chunk of metal up the porthole shaft and ducked out of sight.

Luke willed the piece into his hands. With something that was almost a smile on his face, he waited for Han to climb up from the depths of the ship.

“You really fried her this time, didn’t you?” Luke didn’t need an answer; the burnt metal in his hand was all the evidence he needed to say that the ship wasn’t going anywhere at hyper speed anytime soon.

Han looked defeated. “I don’t know what happened. That’s the worst part; not knowing what went wrong.”

“Yes,” Luke suddenly quieted, thinking of another time he couldn’t figure out what went wrong and never fixed the problem. But this was different; the Falcon was a ship, with pieces that went in certain places, that made a noise when it worked and another noise when there was a problem. The fact that a machine communicated better than most of the people Luke knew only made him more frustrated. 

Han intervened in his typical brash fashion. “Kid, you gotta tell me why you’re dragging me out to a deserted desert planet.” Luke gave him no answer but instead a schooled empty look, devoid of familiarity. 

Han huffed. “Luke,” he said, sitting next to him on the bench. Chewbacca climbed out of the porthole and slammed its grate onto with a satisfied growl. “Luke, I can tell something is eating at you. I don’t give a damn what sort of Jedi code says you can’t ever feel anything, you have to let it out sometimes.” Luke betrayed no emotion. 

Han continued, “I’m your friend, kid. You gotta let your friends know when something’s wrong so they can help you fix it.” Luke scoffed. “Or at least understand it,” Han supplied.

Luke stared into the distance, still biting his nails. Han gently took hold of Luke’s wrist and pulled his hand away from his gnawing mouth. Luke looked down at his hand in Han’s grasp, and sighed.

“It’s my friend,” Luke said quietly. “His funeral on Tatooine is due to take place soon, and I don’t want to miss it.”

Han was silent for a moment. “How’d he die?” Han tightened his grip on Luke’s hand, trying to be compassionate. Luke found it constraining, and slipped his hand back onto his own lap.

“Right next to me. While destroying the Death Star.”

“What was his name?” 

“Biggs.”

“Oh,” Han didn’t have anything more to say.

Luke took a deep breath and placed his hand back in Han’s. “On Dagobah I was taught to not give into my emotions. That fear and anger would lead to more loss. But Biggs… He was my best friend. How can I not hate the men who killed him?”

“Look, I’m no Jedi master—no master at anything, really—but I’ve seen a lot of this galaxy. I’ve known a little bit about loss myself, and I can tell you that there is nothing wrong with mourning, even if mourning leads you to wanting a little revenge.”

“A little?” He laughed, a cold hard laugh, and jumped off the bench. “I want to make all of the Empire pay for what they did.”

“Yes, that’s it.” Han said, standing with Luke. “Let it out.”

“I want to let the universe know the injustices they have caused!” Luke was shouting now.

“Yes!”

From the cockpit, Chewbacca roared.

“I want to hurt them!”

“Punch me!” Han shouted, matching Luke’s fervor.

“Luke was taken aback. “What?”

Han stepped close. “Hurt me like you want to hurt them.” 

Luke gave him a doubting look, but punched him in the side. Softly.

“No. Harder.” Han squeezed his eyes shut. “Punch me harder.”

Luke swung. His fist connected with Han’s stomach, and a gasp bubbled up from his lips. 

Luke swore. “Han, I’m so sorry!” He helped the doubled-over man to the bench. “Are you alright?” 

Han smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, kid, I’m alright. How're you feeling?”

“Worse.”

“Yeah, me too,” Han wheezed. “But, hey, at least we know that the Empire doesn’t stand a chance against your fearless fists.”

Luke replied with a frown.

“C’mon, kid, lighten up. I swear I’m fine.” Han gave Luke thumbs up and a broad smile to show just how great he was feeling.

Still, nothing from the Jedi.

”Smile” said Han playfully, waving a hand to imitate that old Jedi mind trick.

Luke had a sudden urge to stick his tongue out at Han. “Yeah, you’ll be fine,” one side of Luke’s mouth twitched upwards just a bit. “I’m more worried about your ego. I don’t know if it can survive being beaten by a ‘kid.’” 

“Go to hell,” Han muttered under his bated breath as Luke rose to leave.

“Kiss my ass" Luke muttered back, waving a hand as he started back to the cockpit. He only made it two more steps before he felt hands grasp his hips from behind, and a pressure on the side of his ass. Looking down, he saw Han on his knees, his face pressed into his ass cheek.

“Han, what are you doing?” Luke tried to pry him off as quickly as he could. 

“I’m kissing your ass,” Han mumbled into Luke’s butt before Luke slapped him off.

“Well, I can see that, but why?” 

Han looked at him incredulously. “Because you asked.” 

Luke looked down at his hands and swore.

* * * * *

It had been a day or so since the incident when again, Luke slipped. They hadn’t discussed what had happened with the mind control trick because Luke felt ashamed in himself; he had used his powers inappropriately. And yet, he felt good. Powerful.

Luke looked across the table where the there were sitting at Han, who was busy with a part of the hyperdrive, fruitlessly fiddling with the wiring. Luke studied the slant of the Captain’s cheekbones, the way his mount thinned when he was concentrating, the gentle rise and fall of the well-defined chest hidden beneath too many layers of clothing.

Luke swallowed. This could not simply be his Jedi powers of observation getting the better of him. He wanted to explore more of Han’s uniquenesses. He wondered what it would feel like if he reached out and ran his fingers along the slant of Hans cheekbones for himself. Would the skin be rough and blemished like his own, or would it be wholly different? Luke felt his hand twinge in his lap. He so wanted to feel—

Luke instead cleared his throat. Han didn’t look up. He cleared his throat again. Louder. Still nothing.

“Look up,” Luke waved his hand. Immediately, Chewie and Han’s heads sprang up, attention held by Luke’s hand.

“What?” Han asked irritably.

“May I talk to you alone?” Luke asked with a steely tone clouding his voice. 

Han gave Chewie a look. “Yeah, sure.” He led them to the cockpit.

“What is it? Still anxious about getting to Tatooine on time? Cause We’re about to reach Hilrine, and I’m sure we can get the hyperdrive fixed up at a Rebel base there—“ Luke’s worried look cut him off. “Luke, what is it? Unlike you, I can’t read minds.”

“I can’t read minds either.” Luke crossed his arms and sagged into the pilot’s seat.

Han joined him. “No, only impact thoughts? Make people do what you want?” Han asked playfully.

“Why would I ever force someone to do what I wanted?”

“Because they want it too,” Han replied, eyes glinting. “Because they’re too scared to act. But you’re strong aren’t you? So you know when it is best to act?”

Luke swallowed and leaned fractionally towards Han. 

Han smiled slightly and leaned in. “I think the question that needs to be asked is what do you want?”

Luke caught the captain’s eyes, searching. Against the backdrop of stars, the two men squared off. Only by eye they fought; it was a game of whoever blinks first betrays their innermost thoughts. Was it just Luke, or were Han’s eyes growing bigger, getting closer…

Han blinked. “We’ve got company,” he muttered.

Outside, approaching on the horizon, was Hilrine and its rings of ejected junk, but a light form a ship was fast approaching. It came into view as a long, squat, and enormous vessel.

“It’s a smuggler, I can tell.” Han peered out of the window more closely. The ship continued to grow bigger and bigger. Its guns rotated also independently on its multiple layers. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“And why is that?” Luke asked,putting a hand on Han’s back. 

“I think I worked with them before.”

Luke squinted. Suddenly, all of the guns stopped rotating ad pointed unanimously in one direction: towards the Millennium Falcon.

“Then why are all of their blasters pointed at us?”

“I never said that I worked well with them,” Han shouted to Chewie. “Cockpit, now!” 

“I’ll go to blasters,” Luke shouted, already halfway down to the gunners. 

“Alright, baby,” Han muttered to the Flacon, “let’s see what we can do.”

With Chewie next to him, Han began maneuvering the ship around the so Luke would have a better shot. The two ships dipped around each other, weaving in and out of space junk from the metropolis planet far below them. 

“I’ll try to lose them through the trash rings, but I don’t think we can’t outrun them without the hyperdrive!” Han shouted to Luke. “Besides, we need to land if we want to make it to the next system, let alone Tatooine!”

“Then we’ll have to gun them down!” Luke shouted back.

“Wise words from the Jedi,” Han muttered under his breath.

Chewie growled. “Hey,” Han replied, “I’m just glad he’s on our side.”

The Millennium Falcon whipped around a satellite, but scraped its underside on the floating pice of junk. The lights flickered in the cabin. Then they went out.

Han swore. Chewie swore even worse. 

“Shields’re down!” Han hollered as Chewie climbed out of his chair to assess the damage. “I don’t know how much longer I can outrun them!”

From below, Luke closed his eyes. He reached out with the Force, feeling the space around the ship. “Make a left on my signal,” he shouted. “Now!”

Han flipped the ship so suddenly, he heard a thud followed by an angry roar from Chewbacca. 

Luke saw the other, larger ship try to follow their change of course, but slow down in the process. Now was his chance He fired two shots towards the ship, which collided with a large piece of junk at the same time that the blasts reached their target. 

“GO!” Luke cried, and held on tight.

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Han muttered as he used whatever power was left in the engines to push them forward away from the exploding smuggling vessel. Luke whooped as they soared towards the plant below them, his eyes reflecting the fiery remains of the ship.

Up in the cockpit, Han heard the exclamation, and smiled a crooked smile himself. 

“Good job,” he murmured. Luke heard, but he wasn’t sure if it was directed to him or the ship. His smile broadened anyways.

* * * * *

When they had safely landed, Luke scaled the ladder up towards the cabin faster than he had ever climbed before. Han ran to meet him, a manic grin taking over his face.

“You did it, kid!” He enveloped Luke in a rib-crushing hug. Grumbling, Chewbacca brushed past and exited to the ship to find someone to help them with the hyperdrive. The two remained in their embrace for a moment too long. Luke pulled his head back ever so slightly. Han caught his eye, then his eyes travelled his the Jedi’s lips. 

“Kiss me,” Luke ordered, and Han complied.

The warmth of his lips was surprising to Luke. He never imagined a living, breathing, moving Han beneath his lips, not as vivid as this reality felt. Luke grabbed the back   
of Han’s jacket and opened his mouth, inviting the captain’s tongue to slide over his own. Han moved his hand up to cradle Luke’s face as he moaned into the perfect fit of their lips together. 

Breathless and with noticeably together pants, Luke broke off the kiss to look hungrily at Han. “Let’s move this to some place more comfortable.”

* * * * *

It was almost night when Han and Luke stumbled out of the Falcon. They barley made it to hotel lobby, let alone the room they had booked for the night, completely at a loss to where Chewbacca was. Luke’s lips were on Han’s the moment they were in the room. The only sound that could be heard from the two were hurried breaths, and the soft sound of sucked flesh. With great ease, Han pulled Luke up closer to him and propelled the mess of wandering hands and extra limbs to the bed. 

“Take your shirt off,” Luke mumbled into Han’s mouth. Han complied, muscles arching in the stark light from the city outside.

“Now mine,” he whispered again. Han’s hands, shaking only a little, explored the soft skin of Luke’s chest before pulling off his shirt. 

The friction of his skin on Han’s made Luke gasp. He pulled back with a devilish look in his eye, letting his hands wander drown the the front of Han’s pants. “Suck me off,” he whispered, lips already back on Han’s.

If Luke’s eyes hadn’t been closed, he would have seen a moment of hesitation flash on Han’s face, but the Jedi was too enraptured with the flesh in front of him to worry about the thoughts roiling beneath.

Han kissed his way down Luke’s torso and, tucked his fingers under the belt, and tugged with all his might at Luke’s pants.

“God, kid,” he struggled, “could they make these any tighter?”

Luke’s voice rose in pitch with strain. “Well you helped a little in the process,” he squeaked. 

Just as Han thought he might need to whip out his knife to cut away the dreaded fabric, Luke was free, exposed and…

“Holy shit, Luke,” Han gaped. “No wonder those pants were so tight.” Luke was certainly blessed with proportionate body parts with one glorious exception. Right then and there, Han discovered what it felt like to truly feel love. And in return, he swallowed Luke’s cock up to his balls.

It took all of Luke’s Jedi training not to cum in the back of Han’s throat right then and there. Han’s eyes gleamed against the hazy blue light that filtered through the tightly drawn curtains. Luke could have sworn the man was smiling, but then again it was hard to tell with his cock shoved down his throat.

Slowly, too slowly, Han lifted his head up and down, riding Luke’s cock with his mouth, his tongue sliding over the thick underside eliciting continuous gasps from Luke. He quickened his pace, then excruciatingly slow, raked his teeth on the length of the shaft. Luke ground his teeth together, trying desperately to last longer than a few seconds and save himself from embarrassment. 

“Stop, stop,” he whimpered. Han lifted his head, spit still connecting his lips to the tip of Luke’s cock. Luke pulled him up to meet him“I want you to come with me.” He deftly tugged off Han’s equally tight fitting pants—what was with men and tight pants? It was such an impractical fashion choice—and gripped Han’s erection by the base and pumped, taking Han’s mouth in his own again. He tasted salt, sweat, and lust. Something else was on the tip of his tongue… deceit.

Han gasped into his mouth, biting his lip and bucking against him. Luke smiled and stroked faster.

In tandem, they stroked and tugged each other in a choppy rhythm. One would speed up and the other would swiftly work to match the new pace. Soon they were both drenched in sweat, breathing shallow and uneven, small moans and gasps echoing in the space between them. Their chests were pressed against other, slick with sweat, both helplessly grinding their hips into the motions of each other's hands.

Luke came first, unable to stop himself. His release ripped through him with a shuddering groan, his fingers curling tightly in Han’s short hair. The other man finished not longer after, coming hard with a low groan against the side of Luke’s throat, his whole body tensing before collapsing heavily on top of him.

They lay like that, hearts thudding dully against each other, until their breathing slowed and evened out. Luke uncurled his fingers from Han’s hair, drawing small circles on the back of his neck. They looked into each other’s eyes again, this time drunk with pleasure, and smiled together.

“That,” Han said, rolling off of Luke, “was the best hook up I have ever had in my life. And let me tell you kid, I’ve hooked up a lot.”

He felt Luke smile more than see it. “Hey, you’re not so bad yourself,” he chuckled, then yawned. “We should sleep. We have a long day ahead of ourselves if we want to get out of here tomorrow.”

Han slung his arm around Luke. “Now all I want to do is keep you up to tell me how good of a fuck I am.”

Luke snorted. “Go to sleep,” he lazily waved his hand. Han just smiled at him. 

Luke waved his hand again. “You want to sleep,” he said sternly. 

“No, I think I want to kiss you again,” Han murmured in defiance before he leaning in and took Luke’s lips, parted in surprise, in is own.

When Han broke the kiss, Luke had the same frustrated look on his face. “Luke,” Han smiled, “I’m appalled at how low your esteem in my intelligence is. Do you think I’m so weak willed as to fall for some paltry Jedi mind trick?”

Luke was taken aback. “You were pretending this whole time?”

Han scoffed. “Well, not the good parts, no. I sure wasn’t pretending to give the best blow job you’ll ever get this part of the galaxy.”

For a moment, Han thought Luke was going to punch him again. Then he did an astonishing thing; he blushed. 

“It only took a funeral and a grasp for power to get us together,” Luke said in amazement. Han looked shocked for a moment, then tilted his head back to laugh harder in a time longer than he could remember. Luke took the opportunity to plant varied kisses on the captain’s exposed throat. Soon the laughs turned to moans of pleasure.

Luke lifted his head to look at the man splayed beneath him. “Han,” he said, “if I ask you to kiss me, will you?” 

“Depends on how you pose the question.” A small smiled played on Han’s lips.

“Alright,” Luke grinned, pulling Han closer, arching into his warmth. “Kiss me,” he waved his hand. 

Han smiled, and closed the space between them.

* * * * *

Tatooine was dusty as ever when they landed. Han and Chewie, who they managed to find sleeping under the Falcon the next morning, led Luke to Biggs’s old farm, where his family had decided to set a marker up for him. There were no remains to bury. Like Luke’s life on Tatooine, Biggs was nothing more than a ghost.

Han and Chewbacca felt out of place. They were not suited for a funeral, and felt like they were intruding. Despite Luke’s pleas for them to stay, the two decided to take a trip to some nearby booze ridden planet to forget their troubles. Han had many troubles, after all, now that his relationship with Luke had become… complicated. 

Han stood at a distance from the entrance to the moisture farm. He shifted his palace unevenly, unsure if his feet would lead him to the Falcon or to Luke.

“So this is where I leave you,” Han muttered.

“For now,” Luke promised.

“For now.” Han’s eyes glinted less brightly.

“Hey,” Luke caught Han’s arm. “I’m really glad I’ve got a friend like you.”

Han smiled, but his eyes remained the same. “Yeah, me too kid.” He fought the wind as he made his way back to his ship.

“It really was the best blow job this part of the galaxy!” Luke shouted after him. A bunch of Jawas attending the funeral stopped and Han swore they glared from under their hoods.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Don’t get me started on the other things I’m well known for.”

“Oh, go fuck yourself.”

Han laughed. “Yes, sir. But only when you’re there.”

Luke grinned, and planted a small kiss on Han’s smiling lips. “Stay with me,” he murmured. 

"No, no, no!” Han lung tightly to Luke. “You can’t ask a man to stay like that and expect him to want to stay.”

Luke rolled his eyes, waved his hand, and whispered, with all the tenderness he could muster despite his annoyance, “stay.”

And Han and Luke kissed until they forgot about their troubles.


End file.
